


Love is blind

by danvssomethingorother



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley, Blind Aziraphale, Demon Aziraphale, M/M, Reverse Omens, an origin of sorts, despite being fallen Azi is still loyal to Her, my own take on the AU, self destructive behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 19:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/pseuds/danvssomethingorother
Summary: Long before rumored Antichrists and the end nearing, there was a garden and an angel named Aziraphale.He had seen humanity through its infancy and given away his sacred sword, no one the wiser of his crime.He looked over humanity with wonder and love, despite the evils he had witnessed and felt on a personal level, he felt like a doting parent watching over them. Or maybe, more appropriately, an older sibling their mother had tasked with looking over them until they could be returned to her and her kingdom.Humanity and his love for them would be the reason for his fall but he never gave up hope he too would be allowed to return home to his mother one day.Her one true son had walked through the halls of hell as well and been allowed to return to her arms, he often prayed that same fate would be for him too.She forgave all and that was the only thing that kept him going.





	Love is blind

Aziraphale was the only demon worth trusting, for that matter he was more trustworthy then any angel in heaven. He was the only one who would give him a straight answer and that’s what Crowley needed. Give him confirmation of the end times coming and how they could go about this.

He shot through the streets of London, Aziraphale wasn’t always easy to find. Right bastard he was, didn’t have a place to live, crashed with Crowley when he got tired of roaming. When those gluttonous instincts kicked in and he allowed Crowley to care for him. Crowley grit his teeth, like he deserved to be cared for.

Of course, just of course, it was Crowley’s rotten luck when he needed his beautiful blind bastard, he was on his stubborn streak.

:

Long before rumored Antichrists and the end nearing, there was a garden and an angel named Aziraphale.

He had seen humanity through its infancy and given away his sacred sword, no one the wiser of his crime.

He looked over humanity with wonder and love, despite the evils he had witnessed and felt on a personal level, he felt like a doting parent watching over them. Or maybe, more appropriately, an older sibling their mother had tasked with looking over them until they could be returned to her and her kingdom.

Humanity and his love for them would be the reason for his fall but he never gave up hope he too would be allowed to return home to his mother one day.

Her one true son had walked through the halls of hell as well and been allowed to return to her arms, he often prayed that same fate would be for him too.

She forgave all and that was the only thing that kept him going.

;

Crowley swerved to a halt in front of a rundown old church in the run down and dying part of Soho. He slammed the door shut of the Bentley and blessed the bum a crisp bill to keep sinful thoughts of touching his car while he attended to business. His demon was in here, he sensed him.

He stepped through the doors and heard him begging, praying like mortals do.

Crowley cringed, covering his scarf to his nose at the scent of searing flesh, Aziraphale must have been at this awhile. He got into these moods every hundred years or so and the result was always destructive, he would kneel on hollow grounds until it burned through his flesh leaving scars that would never heal. He would pray to their mother who never listened, he would beg to ears unwilling to listen, trying desperately to finally be forsaken. To finally be worthy for Crowley, who in his eyes would always be above him as a servant of the lord, what a laugh that was. Or it would be a laugh if it wasn’t hurting the only thing in these cosmos he loved.

Gently he took Aziraphale by the shoulders and forced him up, he smelt the blood and he smelled the burned flesh, it gagged him. It happened every single time Aziraphale was called back to Hell, Crowley would guide him into a better view of himself and just as swiftly, Hell would shatter it.

“My angel,” he whispered in his ears getting to stop mumbling in Latin, “We have much to discuss, leave this place with me?”

“My darling,” he sighed grasping Crowley’s hand tightly, “Please don’t lie in her presence.”

Crowley didn’t have the heart to tell him she barely existed in Heaven; it was unlikely she existed in a place such as this.

;

The flood was the first time Aziraphale had ever questioned, had ever felt doubt. Not in Her, never in Her, but in Heaven. 

He roamed the plains as the rain began to get stronger, it blurred his vision, but he would be fine. Even if his body died, he would be back. He couldn’t say the same for those not permitted in Noah’s Ark.

He looked upon families loading carts down, gathering belongings and coming together in a comradery he had never witnessed before. They weren’t just accepting fate as Heaven expected and they weren’t looting and murdering one another as the demon Ligur had snickered they would.

They were helping one another, helping each other pack, each using the others resources to leave this place and get everyone to safety.

Children and elderly and the sick loaded in carts drawn by livestock, supplies packed, and none of them seemed willing to even let their enemies stay behind to die, they were working together.

“It’s all pointless,” Ligur snickered once more taking a bite into an apple, stealing the precious little the humans had gathered, “Fruitless effort. All these souls will be in Hell before the morning sun that will never come.”

Aziraphale ignored the demon who had been following him, his one constant companion, helping an elderly woman back into the cart and giving the humans a safe route to the mountains.

He didn’t believe that. Even if they were going to die, he had to believe they were going home. Going home to their mother, going into her embrace. These weren’t evil souls; these were poor people who tried the best they could and only needed a helping hand. 

He would later ask Gabriel about the humans who fought so hard to survive and what became of their souls. He felt something crack hearing the archangels felt they weren’t pure enough to enter their kingdom, Ligur had been right.

;

“I had heard about the antichrist,” Aziraphale confirmed allowing Crowley to lead him into his record shop and up the stairs to his apartment they shared where all of Aziraphale’s books were cluttered.

“Who was assigned it?” Crowley pressed helping the demon sit down in his favorite sitting chair and easing his sunglasses from his pale face, revealing the empty sockets where eyes had once been.

His smoky black hair with grey peppered through it was in quite a state, it looked like he hadn’t bothered to brush the tangles out. His nails weren’t in their perfectly manicured state as they had been when he had last seen him, they were bitten down to nothing with dirt coating around them. Crowley held his hands, not minding the grime sitting down in front of his love, pressing his concern into him. Aziraphale would get better and then he would just stop caring and do this to himself.

His stomach was no longer round and soft, his clothes no longer pressed and clean, he was deathly thin and his clothing nothing more than beggars’ rags. He did this as some sort of punishment Crowley would never understand. Punishing himself for falling.

“Hastur was but he gave the duty of delivering the child to Ligur and Ligur, never a fan of child rearing, has asked me to lead the child down the dark path and finally prove myself as a demon.”

There was a lot unspoken in the silence, this was Aziraphale’s last chance to prove himself, if not for the arrangement he would have likely been disposed of by now and Gabriel would have likely found reason to call for Crowley’s falling.

“Do you mind running a bath darling? I am afraid I am getting you quite filthy.”

Crowley laughed but did what was asked of him. He had never known anything but serving others and had always hated it but taking care of Aziraphale had never felt like a chore.

;

After the rebellion, things had changed much for the worse in Heaven.

Unfortunately for Crowley, he had been in a group that it had hit the worse. He had been low level before but had been treated fairly before Lucifer began praising his gospel. Telling angels like him it could be better, but Crowley had been too cowardly in the end to give everything to his rebellion and after seeing the burning flesh and the severed wings and what became of the losers in this battle, how they were tortured before being thrown into the pits of darkness, he wasn’t about to step out of line again.

After the rebellion, he was reduced to nothing more then Heaven’s slave labor. Kept in line like the rest of the fear of falling and being disgraced. If that fear wasn’t enough, it wasn’t too uncommon for the likes of Sandalphon to lash those who spoke out of place, making it a public spectacle for anyone else who wanted to question Heaven’s Will.

If Crowley had a name before, he didn’t after the rebellion, he was referred to like the less of the lower angels as ‘Guardians’. And they were tasked with whatever the other angels wouldn’t take care of and treated as those bellow them.

He wouldn’t have a name until he met the former disgraced Principality. He would take over for in Rome who had taken to playfully calling him ‘Crawly’, the treacherous snake of Heaven who talked of the angels sinfully when they weren’t around to hear. He would later change that to Crowley, it was less demon like and as Aziraphale fell in love with him, he liked to distance him as much as he could from Hell.

;

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

Aziraphale was curled against Crowley in the bathtub, both soaking and neither up to rising to go back to business just yet. Crowley was carding his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, shimmering black as night once more now that the curls were clean.

“Hell makes me feel my failures and sins,” he admitted, eyelids closed hiding the cruel fate Heaven itself had given him before tossing him out of their kingdom, “I never wanted to fall. I love her and I believe in Heaven still, I want to believe in good.”

“Hurting yerself isn’t going to do anyone any good, angel,” he chastised again, afraid to look down at the scars and burns on his legs and thighs from kneeling on hollow ground like he did. 

“A rational part of me knows that but there is something in me that feels like I must do something. I must prove my worth, show I have learned and am sorry.”

They didn’t say anything else; Crowley began reciting him one of his favorite Wilde stories, he knew it by heart he had read it to his love so often. It helped when he got like this, it helped Crowley concentrate on something else other then this.

;

“You must love my presence.”

Aziraphale ignored the demon, he didn’t even look in his direction as he helped a young mother load her cart and put the baby gently inside a basket, kissing it on the cheek blessing it with luck.

“They will damn you for this.”

Aziraphale still didn’t respond, checking the position of the sun, they had no time to waste. It would happen within days and they all needed to leave. He yelled to the crowd of the poor to take what they had loaded now and just leave with their lives.

They listened to him for they trusted him, he always had that effect on people, they trusted him despite the fact he was betraying Heaven.

Ligur sneered at him, tired of being ignored, knocking Aziraphale from the large rock he was standing upon as the last of the people in the neighborhood left, leaving their home of Sodom behind.

“Why do you save them?”

Aziraphale thought a moment, he could have said nothing he supposed, but he knew he would be seeing much much more of the demon soon for his actions.

“It is just. They are innocents. I can’t let them die like this, being smited for just existing. I couldn’t let the first borns die either in Egypt, I couldn’t let Adam and Eve be defenseless. They won’t understand, I know they won’t and maybe they are right, and I am wrong, but I cannot look on to suffering any longer, Ligur.”

Looking back, Aziraphale should have chose his words more appropriately, the other angels had a strange sense of justice when he repeated these words. He would never look onto suffering again, he would never look on to anything again.

;

Crowley had been chosen to take the Principality’s place after his fall, someone needed to walk among the mortals and bring in reports. Everyone else felt too good for such a role, so it fell on the shoulders of the Guardians, like everything else did.

Crowley tried to hide his utter pleasure at this, he was done living under the archangel’s feet and being worked to the bone doing things they didn’t wish to do. He was often forced to do these tasks as mortals did anyway just for the angels’ amusements, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

The corporal form took time to get used to, but he found he liked the concept of sleeping, of being allowed rest and time to just shut down.

He even got to take residence in a lovely villa in the Roman capital, not too different from the archangels’ quarters he often served.

He found himself quite liking alcohol, he even became a regular patron at a little tavern. He liked to play strange games he always lost and barely understood with the annoyed regulars.

It was on a day such as this he met Aziraphale, dressed in rags and filthy, walking into the tavern. He fumbled around, arms stretched forward, guiding him clumsily to the counter. At first glance, Crowley assumed it was the thick blind fold he wrapped around his eyes that obscured his vision but would soon be mortified to find out Gabriel had personally gouged them out before the former angel fell. He had an accent, not used to the language, inquiring about the nearest hotel.

Crowley took in his aura, it was demonic, he knew he should be afraid but he was more curious. He had to know if the rebellion was worth it, had to know if it was all better then this.

He grabbed the man by the shoulders and forced him to sit down with him.

“What’s it like being a demon?”

Aziraphale had given him a frown at that but shrugged as Crowley sat a glass of wine before him, he greedily took it, chugging it down.

“I will only tell you of that if you do me a favor.”

Crowley had nothing better to do for the day and agreed to it.

“Describe to me the sunset, it has been so long since I have taken it in and I miss it dearly.”

They became nearly inseparable after that.

;

“Heaven will win you know; it was always meant to be that way.”

Crowley curled tighter around Aziraphale, kissing his neck, trailing kisses down his poor deprived body. It had gotten so thin and deteriorated since he had left Crowley, he had worried he would be this way when he finally came back. 

“That would mean an eternity without you and I don’t think I could take it.”

Aziraphale chuckled, “You may call me angel but I haven’t been one in a very long time my love nor do I deserve the title.”

“You deserve it more then every bastard in Heaven,” Crowley growled pulling his love closer.

Aziraphale chuckled but didn’t argue, settling into sleep while Crowley held him and planned. He wasn’t losing this and going back to the way things were, they would stop the end or die trying.


End file.
